One of his overlooked radio calls, as possibly his finest, came from the final minutes of the 1997 UGA – Georgia Tech game. Tech scored a touchdown to take a 24-21 lead with 48 seconds remaining in the game. Munson summed it up (paraphrasing from my memory of listening to this call probably over 20 times) “And they just cut out our heart and the blood is pouring down North Avenue!” Graphic, yes. Over the top, yes…but that is how every Bulldog fan felt at that moment. It was a complete heartbreak. Miraculously, Mike Bobo and the Bulldogs engineered a furious 65 yard drive (aided by a pass interference call) and hit Corey Allen on an eight-yard pass with just eight ticks left on the clock. “Oh my, oh it couldn’t have happened! … and we just picked up our heart and stuffed it back in!” Munson summed up the game later, “Michigan State had rocked Penn State 49-7 but nothing has rocked like this one. Nothing. Has. Rocked. Like This One.”

(Another great tribute from Tommy Tomlinson, columnist with The Charlotte Observer)

See why UGA fans chose to turn down the television sound and turn on Munson: the final drive vs. Georgia Tech, 2006. Larry was 84 years old on this call.

“Fifty years from now, some grandparent is going to remember him as the sports voice of their childhood. ‘Yes,’ they’ll say to a grandson or granddaughter, ‘[fill in the blank] is good, but you should have heard Larry Munson. He was absolutely the best.’”

- Verne Lundquist, CBS Sports

Larry Munson retired in 2008 after 42 years in the booth. His classic calls echo throughout campus each football Saturday in Athens, and they will continue to do so for years to come. Yes, I am biased. Herschel Walker is the greatest running back in college football history, and college football will never have an announcer with the passion of Larry Munson. Look at the sugar falling from the sky! Rest in Peace, Larry. This really feels like a death in my family.

post-script: One of the seminal events of the 1920 baseball season was the death of Cleveland shortstop Ray Chapman. However, Chapman was not the only major leaguer to pass away during the season. On May 1, 1920, Senators infielder Joe Leonard died as a result of complications from an operation for appendicitis. Leonard made only one pinch-running appearance in 1920. An article in the Washington Post, May 2nd, states that he deferred the operation until the team arrived in Washington. He joined the Washington club in 1916, coming from Cleveland. He missed the 1918 season while serving in the Navy in World War I. The article notes that Leonard was one of the more popular players in the game, and his loss would be felt by the Nationals. He left behind a widow.

What I did not share at the time was why the story of Walt Bond struck a chord with me. Walt was diagnosed with leukemia in 1962. Yet he did not let the diagnosis get to him. He continued to pursue a major league baseball career and live his life as the cancer was in remission. My mom was diagnosed with leukemia in 2003, and on Saturday, her valiant battle with the cancer came to an end. Her optimism and bravery allowed her to continue to live her life as a wife, mother and grandmother through all of the hurdles this disease threw at her. I will miss you and thank you for everything, Mom.

Bond began his major league career in 1960 with a couple of nondescript stints with the Indians. The Indians decided leave him for a full minor league season in 1962. As a spotlight article on Bond by the Texas Baseball Hall of Fame stated:

Big Walt took it all in stride and waited for his opportunity. He never complained but a stint in the Army was to change his life in more ways than he could ever know for it was in the Army that Walt was first diagnosed with leukemia. Not being the type of person to let it get to him, all Walt could think of was finishing his required stint with the Army and returning to the Cleveland Indians. Worrying that the other players had a step on him Walter trained vigorously to get back in shape.

1962 was a disastrous season in Cleveland. By August, the team could not hit and was hopelessly out of contention. In mid-September, the Indians called on Bond who provided one of the more memorable “cup of coffee” stints with a major league club. Bond was only 1-for-8 in his first two games, but then hit two homers and drove in six runs in his third, a 10-9 victory in Kansas City. Bond continued this hot streak until season’s end. In 12 games, Bond batted .380 with six homers and 17 RBI.

Yet when the 1963 season began, Bond was in Jacksonville, Fla., home of the Indians’ AAA farm club. Despite Bond’s heroics last September, Indians GM Gabe Paul was apparently not that impressed with Bond as he traded for two first basemen, Joe Adcock and Fred Whitfield, during the season. Even more curious, Paul purchased outfielder Ellis Burton from Houston who was not only older than Bond but was joining his sixth organization yet had amassed only 58 major-league at bats in that time. As the 1963 season closed, Walt Bond, who led the Jacksonville Suns with 25 home runs and 82 RBI, was not invited for a September call-up. Three months later, the Indians sold Bond to Houston.

Bond thrived in the middle of a light-hitting Houston lineup. His 20 home runs and 85 RBI not only led the team, but Bond appeared to be the tonic for what Houston had been lacking since its entry into the league: run-producing power at the cleanup spot. But if it wasn’t for bad luck, Bond wouldn’t have any luck at all. As Bill James stated in his Historical Baseball Abstract:

He finally got a chance to play, with Houston in 1964, in the worst hitters’ park in baseball, and when he seemed in danger of succeeding anyway, they built a park that was even tougher.

By the end of June, 1965, Bond had a .270 average but the power had disappeared, only 4 home runs. The Astros traded for Jim Gentile which moved Bond to the outfield. But with Lee Maye in left, Jimmy Wynn in center, and Rusty Staub in right, Bond found himself squeezed out. By the end of the season, Paul Richards, who was instrumental in bringing Bond to Houston, had left the club, and his replacement, Tal Smith, traded Bond to Minnesota on the eve of the 1966 season.

Bond again found himself in Triple-A. This time in Denver, home of the Twins’ affiliate. He posted impressive numbers with the Bears: .316, 18 HR, and 74 RBI. In 1967, Bond made the Twins’ varsity out of spring training as a pinch-hitter, but was released when rosters were reduced in early May. Bond was surprised by the move as he had batted .313 with five RBI in 16 at-bats. He had homered to help win a game against Detroit in April. “For once in my life, I feel I did the job I was asked to do,” said Bond. “Why? What did I do? What do they expect?” Bond asked manager Sam Mele, and the manager answered that the Twins kept Sandy Valdespino instead because Sandy can do more things well. “I asked Bond if he could throw, run or play defense as well as Valdespino, and Bond answered, ‘No.’,” explained Mele.

Walt would be faced with bigger issues. The cancer that had been in remission reemerged. Bond hooked on with a second tour of duty with the Jacksonville Suns, now in the Mets’ organization, but only played in three games. He managed three hits in those games, including his last home run. Walt returned to Houston for treatment. The leukemia finally began to take its toll on the big man. Tragically, Walt Bond died on September 14, 1967 in Houston, Texas, less than a month from his thirtieth birthday.

Former Colt .45 team physician, Dr. Hatch Cummings, wrote to The Houston Post upon Bond’s passing:

Walter Bond died today and I am sad because I have lost a friend and a patient. During the several years that I have known Walter, I have liked him as a person and respected him as a man. It has been my sad duty to stand by—and help when I could—while a strong proud man succumbed to a relentless disease…. He (Walter) showed the strength of character and will that only champions possess. It was an exhibition of courage, and in the best tradition of baseball.

How sad it is to think a person started the spring in the major leagues, and by autumn, he was dead. The story of Walt Bond is sad and tragic, yet also inspiring. He apparently knew his time on this Earth was limited by his leukemia diagnosis years early, yet Walt continued to live his life. The hobby of replaying baseball games may seem trivial to some, but without it, I would have missed the story of Walt Bond.

For a more in-depth article and one of my sources, please read:

http://www.hardballtimes.com/main/article/walt-bond/

The Angels went through a similar situation in 1978 with death of Lyman Bostock during that season, but unknown to most, another active Angels pitcher died young after making one appearance. I was not aware of this story until I began my replay of the 1965 baseball season. The pitcher was Dick Wantz who made only one appearance for the Angels on April 13, 1965 and one month later was dead of a brain tumor. This is from the Oakland Tribune, May 14, 1965:

Wantz, 25, a 6-foot-5, 190-pound right-hander who had appeared in only one game this season, had an operation Thursday to relieve pressure on the brain. He began experiencing severe headaches during a late April series between the Angels and Yankees in New York. When the club moved to Detroit, he was hospitalized there for a few days. He flew here (Englewood, CA) last week, and reportedly was feeling much better.

But last weekend he was hospitalized, given a spinal tap and X-rays, and a tumor was found. Wantz lived in nearby Artesia and has a young son. He was born in suburban South Gate and attended high school in Long Beach. He spent four years in the minors and had a 2-7 record as a reliever for Hawaii in the Pacific Coast League last year.

He made a strong impression on Angel pitching coach Marv Grissom, “He can be a great pitcher,” Grissom said after the Angels decided to retain Wantz this year. He showed considerable promise in spring training.

An anonymous anti-Japanese man from Missouri threatened the life of Giant Manager Herman Franks by letter, it was learned recently in Los Angeles, and the FBI is on the case. The two-page, handwritten letter, unsigned, was received by Franks in New York. The writer objected to the Giants having a Japanese (Masanori Murakami) on their team and threatened Franks. “You won’t know where or when I’ll shoot you,” the letter read, “But I will.” Franks tried to shrug it off, but coach Charlie Fox, who has a cousin in the Los Angeles FBI bureau, advised Herman to turn the letter over. The writer based his threat on the presumption that Murakami had relatives who fought against and killed Americans during World War II. The letter writer ranted that Murakami should not be in America playing America’s national game. “The guy is just a crank who possibly did lose relatives or friends in the war,” the Giants manager speculated. “Or possibly the guy was in the war himself and is an avowed reactionary,” guessed Franks.

When Franks resigned as Giants manager following the 1968 season, his famous quote was “Is finishing second so evil?” In my replays, the Giants finished third in 1965, second in 1966, and are the pre-season favorites in 1967.